


Support and Relief

by forgetme



Category: Naruto
Genre: Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Pre-Canon, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6305500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetme/pseuds/forgetme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There might be some way for Gai to get into Anbu after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-Takes place after the episode in which Gai tries to join Anbu</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“So, your last mission... you requested reassignment. How come?”

Although he’d been expecting the question, Tenzou had to suppress a nervous twitch. Then he wondered why he bothered to suppress it when the person sitting opposite him could read his mind. He sighed, feeling silly.

“As I wrote in my report, I found myself growing too fond of the target.”

Yamashiro Aoi picked up a pen, then put it down again. There was the faint click of metal against the wooden surface of her desk. “Okay. Fond. Interesting choice of words,” she said, pausing to pull a sheet of paper from the file in front of her. “Tenzou-kun, you’re still a virgin, right?”

Again she already knew the answer. Still, Tenzou nodded. They both had a role to play in this, his monthly “check up”. Anbu standard procedure and there was no way around it, for either of them. “Yes.”

Quickly, she jotted something down on the piece of paper. Tenzou watched the jerky movements of her hand until she finished and looked up again. “And you’re eighteen years old?”

“Yes.”

“Hm, you said you were bothered by your feelings for the target, but would you say they were more of a developing emotional bond or more of a physical attraction?” Her hand was suspended in the air, the tip of the pen hovering over the paper.

Tenzou thought about it for a few heartbeats, the image of Fujiwara appearing in his mind. Tall, muscular, brave Fujiwara who had the misfortune of being a bingo book criminal, if only a C-ranked one. “Physical attraction. Though I was impressed by some of his actions.” Namely, his helping out the people of the mountain village in which he was hiding. He didn’t seem malicious, just unwilling to adhere to the rules of shinobi life. On some level, Tenzou had almost admired him. He blushed, realizing that Yamashiro-san had very likely read the thought on his mind.

She was looking at him, her face as unreadable as always. “You think about sex a lot, right? I mean, you’re a teenager, so that’s to be expected. And you’ve never done it...” Aoi’s gaze was so intense that it made Tenzou feel as though her fingers were walking over his brain. He averted his eyes.

“...I do think about it.” For years now he’d been thinking about it. Kissing, touching, licking, sucking, biting, moaning, yes, sex. Sex with men. Boys his age and older men, fellow Anbu and civillians, the chuunin and jounin manning the mission desks, academy teachers and sparring instructors, C-ranked bingo book criminals and always, _always_ Senpai.

Under her steady gaze, his face had gone beet red with embarrassment.

Seeing his discomfort made her soften. “Listen, this is completely normal. You’re not facing any disciplinary actions here. In fact, your actions can only be considered commendable. Asking for a reassignment was the right thing to do.”

Tenzou felt relieved.

“However,” she continued without missing a beat, bringing his worry back tenfold, “I do have some concerns about your situation. I think you need an outlet. ”

“An outlet?” He had no idea what she was talking about.

“Sex. I think it would help you relax and focus on your missions.”

This time he did twitch. “I..uh.. I actually… relax by myself.”

Aoi shook her head. There was a soft sound, the sound of a drawer being slid open. “It’s not the same. You should at least lose your virginity. Then you won’t have to keep wondering what it would be like. It’s a distraction.”

And how was he supposed to do that, he asked himself. Did she want him to go to a bar and just...take the first guy who showed some interest home? Tenzou swallowed thickly. He was not good at flirting; he’d never really done it. He was shy, plain-looking, focused on his duties as a shinobi, not to mention deeply, hopelessly in love with Hatake Kakashi. Besides, as an Anbu he couldn’t just put himself out there, one wrong move could him get killed and then, if his body fell into the wrong hands, Konoha would lose the First Hokage’s priceless jutsu.

Having read his mind, Yamashiro-san sighed. “I know it’s difficult to find someone you can trust, especially if you have a bloodline limit. Believe me, I know. If you have trouble, there’s something I can do for you.” Tenzou couldn’t help himself, his mind went _there_ and his jaw dropped. She rolled her eyes at his dumbstruck expression. “Don’t look at me like that, that’s not what I mean. I’m not into scrawny little boys who’re still green behind the ears.” Tapping her pen against the top of her desk, she narrowed her eyes at him and muttered, “Probably literally in your case.”

From somewhere he couldn't see - possibly a drawer on her side of the desk - she produced a small white card, which she handed over to him. “Here. If you’re interested, go to this address and give them this card. They’ll explain everything to you. Think about it, okay?”

He could feel a faint chakra imprint on the card, layered over the black writing. There was no name, nothing but Autumn Road 6, Konohagakure. Tenzou had a vague idea where it was, somewhere in the apartment complex district, a little ways from the village center.

“Give it a shot,” Yamashiro-san said.

* * *

  
_Seven days earlier_

Gai may not have been very good at sensing chakra, but it wasn’t like he was completely incompetent. Whoever was waiting for him in his apartment either made no effort to hide his presence or was incredibly bad at it. Outside his front door, Gai closed his eyes, focusing. No, that person couldn’t just be incompetent, their chakra imprint was too strong. Gai could feel it distort the air around him, licking at him like a flame. This was a waving flag, an announcement. I’m here, waiting for you.

He would meet his visitor head on, Gai decided. He unlocked his door and pulled it open, bracing himself for whatever was waiting for him. A white mask with red markings. The Anbu was standing in the center of Gai’s hallway, arms folded across his armored chest. He nodded at Gai, waiting for him to come in and close the door. Only when they were safe from the eyes and ears of Gai’s neighbors did he speak.

“Maito Gai. You asked Danzou-sama to join the special forces?”

Gai’s heart skipped a beat. It was happening! He’d known, of course, he’d known that he was good enough. He would be able to follow Kakashi! “Yes!” He shouted, enthusiasm filling his chest to burst. “Has he changed his mind? Can I join Anbu?! Or Root?!”

“Don’t yell. There might be an opening for you.”

So this was how it happened. Soon, he’d be called in front of Sandaime-sama and he’d be appointed officially, and Kakashi wouldn’t be able to avoid him any longer. Gai would be by his side; he would make sure that no harm came to his friend. He would do whatever it would take! Anything to help Kakashi!

“I want to be on Hatake Kakashi’s squad! Our hot-blooded rivalry has strengthened our bonds and made us--”

The Anbu held up a hand, interrupting him. “Shut up for a minute, kid. You’re not getting into Anbu or Root. The opening is in the Support and Relief division.”

“Support and Relief?” The wind taken out of his sails, Gai blinked in confusion. He’d never heard of this division, but if the name was anything to go by... “I’ll go out and rescue Anbu in danger? Yosh!” It was perfect. If Kakashi ever needed him, he would be there!

There was a groan, muffled by the porcelain mask. “No, that’s not what it is. Support and Relief doesn’t go out on missions.” The Anbu huffed a breathy laugh. “Whatever you need to do, you do right here.”

“Eh? I don’t--”

The Anbu moved with lightning speed. He stepped forward and thrust something at Gai. A white paper rectangle. “Here, take it. If you want to know more, go to this address. Show them the card, they’ll fill you in.” With that he vanished in a swirl of leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

“To put it bluntly, Relief and Support means sex,” the man said. He was, Gai guessed, in his thirties, nondescript clothes and face - but then most people's faces were nondescript to Gai - and when Gai came into what turned out to be an office complete with cheap looking desk and plastic chairs, he didn’t even bother to get up.

“Take a seat,” he’d said instead, motioning towards one of the blue plastic chairs, then, “I’m sure you want to know what you’re signing up for.” And then he said that mind breaking line,

“To put it bluntly, Relief and Support means sex.”

“I-- I don’t understand,” said Gai. His plastic chair was uncomfortable, so shifted restlessly. The acoustics in the small room with its peeling paint and grimy look had to be off, because he couldn’t have heard what he’d heard.

The guy met his eyes over his rickety desk. “Sex. Well, sometimes massages and a little hand holding and maybe there’s one or two who just want to be held or talk to someone, but mainly it’s sex.” He sighed. “See, it’s like this, Anbu, they go on the most difficult missions. They are under incredible amounts of pressure and as if that wasn’t enough, they also have a hard time getting laid. Can’t trust anyone, you know? If you have a bloodline limit, people might be after you for that; or just plain for being an Anbu. It’s a little like being in the bingo book. That tattoo can get you killed.”

The getting killed part made sense to Gai, but the other thing? Sex? What did that have to do with him? He was a shinobi, someone who could be a vital addition to the special forces. What was all this talk about sex?

“But what would be my mission?” he asked.

“As I said, sex. I don’t know how to say it any other way, kid. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, will be to sleep with Anbu who need relief and support.”

Gai sank back into his chair, completely flabbergasted.

The man shot him a look, sizing him up in a way that Gai might have considered an unspoken challenge, but then he continued in an even voice, “You may think that this is insane or that it’s immoral and I understand that. But it helps our Anbu, it really does. Sometimes they need the physical relief; they need to be touched. It’s a lonely, dangerous business.”

A dumb nod was all Gai could muster.

“No one is going to force you to do this. However, there has to be a reason why you got this proposal. We don’t just accept anyone; most people in this village don’t even know we exist. Someone thought this was something you can do.” He paused then sighed again, this time in resignation.

“Anyway, you can think about this for as long as you want. If you want to become a part of the Support and Relief division, all you have to do is come back here. If not, burn the card.”

Gai got up mechanically; he bowed with the same spiritless automatism and turned to leave. _Sex,_ the man’s voice echoed in his mind, _sex, sex, sex._

The man kept talking as Gai left, his voice following Gai down the hallway.

“We really do help people. The Anbu who come here don’t have anyone, can’t go anywhere. Some of them are so close to the brink, you can almost see them swaying in the breeze. We pull them back.”

* * *

 

_We pull them back._

Was that a joke? Or the truth?

_You lack darkness,_ Danzou-sama had told him. Anbu members… They were different. A level above Gai, who couldn’t make the special forces despite all his hard work, all the sweat, blood and tears and he still couldn’t follow his eternal rival. That was failure, that was defeat.

Gai hung his head, his feet dragging as he walked out into the early evening into a village that was preparing for sundown. Without thinking, he took the path leading north, away from his apartment and up to the edge of Konoha, to the training fields.

He’d run a couple of rounds, maybe six hundred to finish the day. Or maybe, if he was lucky, he’d meet someone with whom he could spar. Then he could go to the onsen and have a long soak. Yes! These were all good, healthy, youthful things he could do tonight! He wouldn’t have to think about this strange experience any longer!

Determination restored, Gai marched up the hill with his usual zest, making a point of greeting the few pedestrians who crossed his path with extra bright smiles. He was fine until he had to walk past the memorial. Even from the distance, he could feel the familiar chakra pattern, Kakashi’s subtle, warm energy.

It told him that Kakashi wasn’t trying to hide his presence, which in turn allowed him to approach, at least that was how he justified it to himself. As a Good Friend and Rival, Gai wouldn’t want to disturb a private moment - except of course when it was necessary to raise Kakashi from certain Dark Thoughts.

_Dark Thoughts… Darkness…_

Above him the wind rustled through the trees, stirring the leaves. The soft sound it made was the sound of home. Konoha. It was green and alive and bright. Only where Kakashi stood shadows seemed to linger. Instinctively, Gai stopped in his tracks, pressing his back against a thick tree trunk that would hide him from view even if his rival turned around.

There seemed to be little chance of that happening, though. Kakashi stood motionlessly, his full attention on the stone. He was stiff like a statue, back straight, hands balled to fists at his side. The tension in his muscles was visible to Gai, as clear as ink lines on paper, the way he held himself, like a single pillar between the earth and the red sky above, carrying its entire weight by himself.

Gai chewed on his lip, unsure how to proceed. When he’d first sensed Kakashi, a million ideas for challenges had entered his mind and he’d eagerly changed course to go to his rival, but now that he was actually here and could see Kakashi, things felt very different. Lately, Kakashi had been even more evasive than usual, his rejections of Gai almost as forceful as they had been during that painful period just after Obito’s and Rin’s death.

He remembered their last confrontation on that mission all too clearly and even though they’d both apologized afterwards, it didn’t feel like it had been resolved.

Gai realized that his fingers were digging into the bark of the tree. Surely, Kakashi had already noticed his presence, so why wasn’t he reacting? On a normal day, Kakashi would have either found some way to escape or he would have sneaked up behind Gai to startle him by now. Kakashi, it seemed, was waiting for him to make the first move.

He steeled himself, drawing in a deep breath, then he let go of the tree, squared his shoulders and marched over to his rival. The gravel crunched loudly beneath his feet, announcing his presence. “Oh, Kakashi! Fancy meeting you here! It’s been a while!” Platitudes, of course, but Gai delivered them with real feeling.

Kakashi reacted so slowly, he looked like a man waking from a coma. When he finally turned around, Gai’s heart leapt into his throat. He saw the reason for Kakashi’s strange behavior now; the blood-splattered front of Kakashi’s Anbu armor. He could feel the smile on his face freeze into a horrified grimace. In one leap he was in front of his rival, grabbing him by the shoulders to prevent his no doubt imminent collapse. “Kakashi! You’re hurt! I’ll take you to the hospital!”

Even with the thick padding of the armor, Kakashi’s shoulders felt bony under Gai’s hands, his muscles tense like fraying rope. “It’s not mine,” Kakashi said under his breath as Gai tried to pull him closer.

“Hm?”

“The blood. I said it’s not mine.” An abrupt twist of his upper body, clearly an attempt to dislodge Gai’s hands. “Let go, Gai.”

The blood was dried, the armor intact, Gai could see that now. It didn’t put him at ease though. Because Kakashi looked at him with this flat expression, a coldness that chilled him to his bones. Ignoring his friend’s escape attempts, Gai ran one hand down the front of Kakashi’s chest, making sure that there really was no injury there.

“Let go,” Kakashi repeated. “I’m fine.” His voice was tired, too tired even to sound annoyed.

Reluctantly Gai loosened his grip, allowing Kakashi to take a step back, just out of his reach.

“What happened?” he asked.

Kakashi shook his head. “Classified.”

They stood there for a couple of heartbeats, both silent, silent as the stone behind Kakashi. Gai’s hands balled into fists. He hated this. He hated Kakashi not meeting his eyes; he hated that he couldn’t keep asking questions until he got an answer. For a brief terrifying moment he even hated the village.

“I have to go,” Kakashi said.

“Wait! I--” _I challenge you!_ The words stuck in Gai’s throat. This was what he would have said before, but now, after the kunai incident, Gai has learned to bite his tongue.

He didn’t move, so Kakashi simply took a step to the right and walked past him as though Gai was some kind of inanimate object, just another rock in his path.

* * *

  
Later that night, Gai sat in his bathtub, soaking his sore muscles in hot water. In an attempt to work through his frustration and helplessness, he’d trained furiously after Kakashi had left. He’d beat the training poles into the ground, done pushups till he lost count - at something like five-hundred and twenty-three - he’d run through the forest, thirty-seven rounds around the village until all light had bled out of the sky leaving only black night sprinkled with the fuzzy white of distant stars.

Gai tipped his head back against the cold porcelain rim of his tub. He closed his eyes and tried to picture the starry night sky, but all he could see was the white of Kakashi’s eye, his pale face floating above the brownish red smear on his chest. His eyes still closed, Gai reached out of the tub. His spandex suit lay pooled on the floor. He stretched, his fingers brushing the damp fabric, finding the small paper rectangle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the commenters, you inspired me to continue!

_Am I really going to do this?_ That was the question going through Tenzou’s head as he scouted the area around the address he had been given. He had let one week pass since his check-up, turning his options over in his mind, wondering, imagining, forlornly gazing at his senpai during training… There was a part of him that ached to ask Kakashi.  For his opinion maybe, or straight up if there was a chance, the smallest chance Kakashi would ever even consider…

 _What?_ A cruel inner voice had shattered his train of thought. _Going out with you? Holding your hand? Kissing you? Fucking you? Ask him then, come on, ask him! And then you can go back to Yamashiro-sensei and beg for another reassignment. Or maybe Kakashi will do that for you because he’ll be too disgusted to keep working with you._

No, it wasn’t an option; Kakashi-senpai was his captain. Tenzou couldn’t risk disrupting their squad because of his childish, selfish fantasies. They would never be a couple. It was impossible.

 _Then what,_ he’d wondered, turning the card over in his hand, reading and rereading the print. It was undeniable that merely looking at the print gave him a faint tingle, like walking past the dirty magazines in a store and catching a glimpse of the ones kept at the very back, the ones that didn’t sport titles like Big Bosomed Babes.  Shudou was the name of a certain publication that tended to catch Tenzou’s eye. He’d bought an issue once and kept it under his bed.

The small paper rectangle in his hand was something quite different, though. It promised the real thing, not just some smiling boy printed on glossy paper, not a wood clone made to resemble—

It was a residential area, just as Tenzou had thought. A block of apartment buildings, all of them the same flat-roofed rectangular model, looking a little like giant building blocks a child might have lined up next to each other. Tenzou himself lived in an equally faceless building closer to the village center. They were newer constructions that had been erected after the kyuubi attack and while Tenzou secretly lamented their lack of architectural finesse, he couldn’t deny their practicality.

 Perching on the edge of the roof of one building neighboring the address on the card, Tenzou  observed the pedestrian traffic. Truth be told, he felt silly sitting there, dressed in civilian clothing sans hitai ate, in broad daylight, while kids were playing in the street below, a young man walked a fluffy white dog over to one of the small patches of green where it raised its leg to relieve itself against a tree, and a housewife aired her futon on the balcony.

No sign of another Anbu anywhere, at least none that he could sense.  Shinobi, yes, there were some in the area, genin-level chakra from one of the kids chasing a ball and the housewife was at least a chuunin, plus some passersby, but nothing suspicious, just regular Konoha nin going about their day.

Without a sound, Tenzou made his way back to the ground, hopping from balcony to balcony, then into a tree, before landing in the narrow alley between two buildings. No one paid him any attention as he walked into the sunlit street, dodging one of the kids darting after the ball.

 In front of building number six, Tenzou hesitated. He looked up at the many little apartments, each with its own balcony facing him like the rungs of a ladder reaching seemingly all the way up into the sky. Once inside there would be no way for him to find out on which door he was supposed to knock. If anyone but Yashiro-sensei had given him the card, he would have thought it was a prank.

Maybe this was a test.

“Oi, Niisan!” Tenzou took a step aside, expecting the kid, a dark-haired boy with grey eyes and a round birthmark on his right cheek, to run past in order to catch up to his friends, but instead the boy stopped and looked up at him, a calculating frown on his face. “Are you Tenzou?”

Weak chakra levels but sharp eyes. Tenzou slipped a hand into his pocket, the cold steel of the kunai hidden there soothing his nerves.

“Who wants to know?” he shot back, his tone playful on the surface.

The kid shrugged. “If you’re Tenzou, my mom said to tell you apartment three-four.” That done, he lost all interest and ran off after his friends.

Tenzou heard the children’s laughter fade into the distance with their footsteps as he ducked into the building. It was cool inside, the air smelling faintly of citrus. Tenzou ignored the elevator across from him and took the stairs instead. He was nervous, his palms sweaty, his mouth dry, but his steps steady on the polished tiles. When he heard someone approach from above, he tensed, his hands itching to form symbols, but it was only a girl about his age, smiling as she nodded a greeting. He looked after her once she had passed him, watching her light-footed descent for a few moments, just to make sure.

There was no one in the hallway on the third floor. Four apartments, each numbered, their doors painted white and all of them closed. Tenzou snuck closer to number four, pausing just in front of the door. A brass name plate next to it read Mizumura. Someone was inside, moving around. He could hear their footsteps and sense the weak flame of their chakra. They were no trying to hide their presence, but maybe there were others around who were and were succeeding?

Either way, Tenzou had been referred here by an Anbu superior; there was no reason to be this suspicious.  Still, he peeked through the spyhole and saw nothing but white walls and concrete floors, a shoe rack with one pair of sandals in an otherwise empty _genkan_.

Tenzou bit his lip and knocked quickly, not allowing himself to lose his nerve.

“Yes!” a woman’s melodious voice rang out, followed by the sound of her fast footsteps. Tenzou’s sharp ears managed to pick up the soft _slap slap_ of her slippers against the soles of her feet.

The door opened to reveal a tall woman in a worn kimono and flour-covered apron. Her black hair was done up in a tight knot, secured with what looked like black-lacquered senbon to Tenzou.  

“Hi! Tenzou, right? Come on in!” She pulled him over the threshold by the sleeve and walked ahead while he took of his shoes.  “I’m making dinner! Have you eaten yet?”

Tenzou looked up from his sandals only to see her vanish through an open doorway. Now that she had pointed it out, he could smell the aroma of cooking oil from what he presumed must be the kitchen. This was not at all what he had expected. “Um…” He followed her, feeling like a wanderer lost in a strange dream.

She was at the kitchen counter, rolling shrimp in batter. “Yoshi sent you up, didn’t he. He’d better be back soon. Why don’t you take a seat.” With her long wooden cooking chopsticks, she pointed at the kitchen table surrounded by four chairs.

Hesitantly, Tenzou sat on the one closest to the counter. “Actually…,” he said, swallowing against his dry mouth as he pulled the business card from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“Oh, of course! You know, you’re not really what I expected. Anyway, what are you looking for?”

“Um, well, Yamashiro-sensei said…  sex.” His cheeks crimson, Tenzou avoided her eyes. Was this a mix-up, he wondered, was she the one he was supposed to—

But Mizumura burst out laughing. “No kidding! I meant what kind of person are you looking for specifically? No, wait, don’t tell me, let me guess!” She dropped her battered up shrimps into the oil, making it sizzle and cocked her head at him. “I think _you_ would like to meet a beautiful older woman, someone to hold you in her arms and keep you safe and warm! A real motherly type! Am I right?”

Tenzou thought his face might be about to burst into flames. “Ah… actually… I’m… I’d like to be with a man,” he stammered.

Mizumura-san didn’t miss a beat. “Oh? A real fatherly type then?” Seeing his no doubt mortified expression, she softened. “Or someone your own age?”

“I… I’m not sure.” Truth be told, he’d never thought about it beyond _someone like senpai_ , which he really, really couldn’t tell her. And did he even want someone like Kakashi, wouldn’t that be the worst possible choice he could make at this point?

She sighed, a smile playing around her lips at his obvious helplessness. “You know what, let me just go get my files and then we’ll talk. Would you mind looking after the food until I get back?” Without waiting for a reply, she pressed the chopsticks into his hands. “Here, just don’t let them get all burned, okay? I’ll only be a moment!” she called over her shoulder before slipping out of the room.

Tenzou, still wide-eyed and completely out of his depths, staggered to his feet. At the counter, he stared into the pan where the tempura were drowning in a sea of bubbling oil. He poked at them ineffectively with the chopsticks, just to do something.

True to her word, Mizumura reappeared after a couple of minutes, brandishing a manila envelope, which she emptied on the table.

Tenzou gaped at the pictures and sheets of paper that had spilled out.  Mizumura-san sighed again. Then, she simply took the chopsticks from him and pushed him towards his chair.

“Here, look through these and tell me which one you like. Or ones, I guess. You don’t have to settle; we’re not setting up a marriage here. Although we could, if that was what you wanted.”

“Uh… okay.” _Marriage?,_ he thought, slightly panicked, he wasn’t even sure about the sex yet .“Thank you,” he mumbled, dropping into the chair, while picking up a random sheet of paper.

A middle-aged man was smiling at him from the photo in the right corner of the document that turned out to be a very basic profile. Name, age, height, weight, blood type. That was it. _Yasuo, age: 46,_ Tenzou read, blushing again. He could practically feel Yasuo-san’s hazel eyes on him, judging the scrawny boy who had dared to look at his picture. Though the man’s smile was kind and fatherly, Tenzou found his bulging muscles and salt-and-pepper hair intimidating. Although it might be nice to be held by someone this strong and experienced…

He picked up another picture. A blond man this time, who had his long hair in a ponytail. _Hiro, age: 28_. Hiro had a playful smile and was posing with one arm behind his head, as though he was scratching his head sheepishly. His delicately embroidered Yukata fell open to reveal a pale chest.

“Awww, Hiro-kun, he’s handsome, isn’t he?” Mizumura-san was done fishing her tempura out of the pan and had wandered over to look over Tenzou’s shoulder. “No wonder he’s so popular…”

 _Popular?_  A wave of disenchantment crashing over him, Tenzou set the picture aside and let his gaze sweep over the papers in front of him. _Of course,_ the nasty voice mocked him, _did you think you were the only one coming here? The guys are no better than the whores in any given brothel. Only you can’t go to the brothel because someone might find out who you are and kill you for your genes. But don’t fool yourself into thinking one of them could love you._

As though she’d read his thoughts, Mizumura, said, “You know these are all shinobi of the village, right? Those names are aliases like your own Anbu codename. You might run into any of them in the village or on missions, and if you do, you must never mention this, just like they will never speak to or of you in this context. All of these guys have to pass regular mind read checks like the Anbu. They’re all safe and one hundred percent trust worthy and they will do anything to give you pleasure; that’s their mission.”

A shiver ran down Tenzou’s spine. If only he could stop being in love with Kakashi _,_ he thought bitterly _._ If only one of these men could—

He blinked. It couldn’t be. Tenzou reached out, his hand brushing aside Yasuo, Hiro and all the others. He picked up the page closest to the edge of the table, held it up in front of his face with both hands and stared at it.

_Haru, age: 21._

“Oh, he’s our newest.” Mizumura-san’s voice floated past his ears. “I told him to pluck those eyebrows into shape but he wouldn’t listen…”

A young man in a Yukata, just like the others’ – only his was a dark forest green and its sleeves were rolled all the way up to show off the man’s muscular arms. In a way it really was a picture like all the others - except that Tenzou knew this person. His shiny black bowl cut had been mussed up a little, making him look more boyish and charming. His smile on the other hand was more contained, still bright, perfect teeth very much on display, but whoever had taken that photo had known how to capture the young man in a moment when he looked sweet and earnest instead of hyperactive and a little manic as he, Tenzou knew, tended to do.

“Gai-san…” Tenzou mumbled, still not believing what he was seeing.

“You know him?” Mizumura-san leaned closer. “Then maybe you shouldn’t—unless you secretly like him?” The teasing note in her voice didn’t escape Tenzou, who swallowed, remembering the first time he had seen Gai-san. It had been after his first training session under Kakashi-senpai’s command. Their newly formed squad had met on one of the training grounds reserved for Anbu and after they were finished and were heading to the lockers, that strange boy had jumped out of a bush, yelling at the top of his lungs about challenging senpai. Tenzou had flinched, grateful for the mask still covering his face, and moved on while Kakashi tried to shoo the other boy away.

“Who was that?” he’d asked later and Kakashi had looked at him, shaken his head and replied, “Nobody.”

Two years had passed since then and Tenzou had had many opportunities to meet Gai but had never used them. He’d sometimes watched, though, secretly, when his senpai and the strange boy named Gai faced off.

“Who is he?” he’d asked his Anbu comrades, and those who had known Kakashi longer actually had answers.

_Don’t you know, that’s Kakashi’s Eternal Rival!_

_More like his one man fanclub, you mean._

_His stalker._

_They went to the academy together._

_He’s a weirdo._

Tenzou shrugged, trying to act unaffected, pushing the memories away. “He doesn’t know me; he’s a… friend of my squad captain.”

“Oh?” He didn’t like how unimpressed she sounded; it gave him the feeling that she was seeing right through him, though he didn’t even know what there was to see.

“I never thought he’d do something like this…”

 “…He hasn’t, not really, I told you he was new. And no one’s asked for him yet. But he’s kind of cute. A little intense, but a real sweetheart. Not everyone can do these kinds of missions. He’s got potential, though.” Mizumura-san’s voice took on an almost seductive tone.  “You know, if you were to ask for him, you couldn’t talk about any of that stuff with your captain. If you did, all of this…” She gestured at the photos spread across the table, “would be over for you. That’s the deal.”

Tenzou stared at the picture, his mind racing. He wasn’t seriously considering this, was he? Gai-san… Kakashi-senpai’s—whatever they were. He’d wanted someone who wasn’t at all like Kakashi-senpai, right? Someone who wouldn’t constantly remind him of Kakashi-senpai. Then, clearly, Gai-san was all wrong; he was the worst choice. But now that he’d seen the picture he couldn’t look away. He knew he wouldn’t be able to forget… he wouldn’t be able to stop wondering…

“You’re pretty inexperienced, aren’t you?” Mizumura-san asked, leaning even closer, close enough for Tenzou to feel the heat of her skin. If she turned her head, her lips would brush his cheek. “You should probably go for someone older first, to show you the ropes… After all, you can always come back to sweet Haru-chan after he’s had… _a little more practice.”_ Her hot breath tickled the shell of his ear as she spoke, making the back of Tenzou’s neck prickle.

“ _Him_ ,… I choose him,” the words burst from his lips, seemingly of their own accord. Breathlessly, he pushed away from the table, and sidled out of his chair.

“Oh? Are you sure?”  

“…Yes.” To his own surprise, he actually sounded sure.

“Okay. Let me just check my calendar.” Mizumura pulled a small black notebook from the pocket of her apron and flipped it open. “You’re in luck,” she said after a few seconds, “Haru is currently in the village and won’t have another mission until next week. You can meet him tomorrow, if you’d like. Or, if you’re in a real hurry, I might even be able to arrange something for tonight…?”

“Tomorrow is fine,” Tenzou interjected quickly, his heart racing. “Thank you!”

“O-kay! I will get the message to Haru and you… how about you show up at this address…,” she flipped to the last page of the little book, produced a pen from her apron, scribbled something down, ripped the page out and handed it to Tenzou all in under thirty seconds, “tomorrow at seven, no, make it six, we’ll order you takeout and make it a dinner date, then even if all else fails, at least you’ll get a free meal!” She beamed. “Do you like Ramen?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Great! Care to stay for some tempura?”

“No… thank you. I better go. Thank you. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too! You’re such a polite boy! If only more men were like you… Anyway, make sure to enjoy yourself tomorrow! Oh, and don't forget, all of this is classified. You were never here; this never happened, okay?”

“Understood. Yes. Thank you.” After an awkward bow, Tenzou let Mizumura-san walk him to the exit, where she stood, waving goodbye until he started his descent down the staircase. The last thing he heard from her apartment was the _slap slap_ of her slippers hitting the soles of her feet.

***

It was a different address, somewhere at the edge of the village, not too far from the southern watchtowers. Tenzou placed the creased slip of paper on his nightstand and tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped with guilty excitement.

Tomorrow.


End file.
